


67. An Unexpected Proposal

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [67]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6323944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warning for milder than usual verbal and physical humiliation (very small part of log), semen ingestion</p>
    </blockquote>





	67. An Unexpected Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for milder than usual verbal and physical humiliation (very small part of log), semen ingestion

The wrap party had been epic. Stephen's pretty amazed he got home in one piece - falling into bed as the sun rose - and the hangover had been brutal. The following day he'd forced himself to sweat it out using the gym in the building complex. Now Stephen's pottering about the apartment. The previous day had been spent catching up with his people on his availability over the next few months, he'd penciled in a few things - a Con or two - but had committed to nothing. Not without Antony to consult, and his lover is due home today. Despite warning otherwise he had indeed managed to text Stephen - twice, and made one short phone call - it had been enough to appease Stephen's worrying, to a point.

Christ. Antony leans against the back of the elevator, his bag in one hand, his other arm tucked in tight against his side. He can just imagine what Stephen's going to say about this, especially since he never mentioned his shoulder once on the phone.

Letting himself in, he drops his bag by the door. "I'm home," he calls out, prepared to put on a good show.

Stephen is up and off the bed - where he's been lounging and reading - and down the hallway in moments. "Hey!" he grins and makes to pull Antony in for a hard hug. "C'mere."

All Antony's preparation goes straight out the window with Stephen's hug. Pain sears right through him and he grunts, tensing hard and gritting his teeth against it.

And Stephen freezes, then pulls back, his face a mask of concern, lifting his arms from his lover's body. "What? Did you get hurt? Where? Have you seen a doctor?"

"It's just my shoulder," Antony says, playing it down. "The rotator cuff thing. It got worse while I was away." Mostly because he didn't fucking baby it the way he should have.

"Have you had it looked at?" Stephen asks again, stepping back to allow Antony space to move into the living room. "Can I get you anything?"

"Our guy looked at it and gave me this." Antony hikes up his t-shirt, showing Stephen the shoulder support rig Kim set him up with. "It's not a tear so other than babying it and doing some exercises, there's not much I can do about it." He smiles at Stephen and takes a seat on the couch, careful to angle his upper body just so. "A drink would be good. I just took a couple percocet."

Stephen's still not entirely mollified. "Sure, what would you like?" And as he asks he drops down to kneel at Antony's feet to remove his boots. Tugging on the laces and working each off in turn.

Antony really wants a scotch but seeing as that and the percocet combined with the jet leg will probably knock him right the fuck out, that's not a good idea. "Just a beer, thanks."

Rolling to his feet Stephen picks up the boots. "Okay, and what about something to eat? Or a bath?" He's still frowning, even when Antony came home with his back all busted up he didn't look like this - all pinched around the eyes.

"Right now, I just want the beer and you, right here," Antony says, nodding at the couch beside him. The pain's almost constant now and all the defenses he's used to keep it at bay are crumbling now that he's home.

Stephen's back in moments, the boots put away, beer bottle open, he hands Antony the beer and sits down where his lover indicated. "Did you lie to me about how bad this was before you left?"

Shit. "I wouldn't say lie... I thought it'd get better," Antony says, taking a long drink.

Stephen presses his lips together, because if he speaks it won't be things Antony will want to hear, and they aren't things Stephen wants to say when his lover has only just got home from a week away. Even so, his displeasure is apparent.

"Look. I'm home. I'm in one piece and I know what to do to get this feeling better. I couldn't've dropped out of this last job that late and you would've just been worrying more if you'd known how much it was bothering me."

"So you lied to me?" Stephen pushes up from the couch and shaking his head he makes toward the side cabinet where the scotch is kept, he pours them both a glass and sets one in front of his lover. "Don't ever do that again."

"Okay, I won't," Antony says, crossing his heart. "I promise. Now would you give me a kiss? I missed you."

Stephen snorts at that. "You think you deserve one?" he asks, retaking his seat beside Antony. He arches one brow in question.

"Yes, because despite my shoulder, I didn't come home with any other injuries," Antony points out. "Which still counts as coming home safe."

"Hmm," Stephen hums out a noise that makes it clear he's not convinced, but despite that he leans in, pressing a kiss to his lover's mouth. "I missed you," he murmurs.

"Yeah?" Antony's eyes crinkle and he pulls Stephen in with his good arm, kissing him harder. "I missed you like crazy. "

"Good," Stephen huffs out a laugh against Antony's mouth. "And you know what? We don't have any plans for a week - nothing... just you and me and nothing..."

"Yeah. About that..." Antony fucking hates disappointing his boy. "We're going to have to push that really hard scene by about a week. Which means we either reschedule our travel plans or do it when we come back."

"We have plenty of time over my break, we can look at the diary over the next few days, I have some things I should do, some Conventions and stuff, I just wanted to run them past you before I agreed." All the while he's talking Stephen's rubbing his hand along Antony's thigh.

Antony nods. "That sounds like a good idea. I'm officially off for the next bit but there might be a few things I have to attend to," he says, leaning in and kissing the side of Stephen's throat.

"Come to the Cons with me, they're a good laugh, you'll like it, I bet Ian will be there for at least one of them." Stephen tilts his head to allow Antony more room.

"Yeah?" Antony smiles, biting at the curve of Stephen's throat, his cock starting to fill, the percocet finally starting to do their job. "Your people won't freak out if I'm there?"

"They can suck it up," Stephen growls, eyes closing, it hasn't taken much to push back his anger at his lover, his physical needs are so much more immediate.

Antony grins against Stephen's skin. "Okay, then I'll come," he murmurs, licking over the mark he's made, his hand moving to Stephen's thigh, fingers stroking along the inseam of his jeans.

"You can mark me, all you want," Stephen points out - and he's waited months to say that. "I want to be wearing your marks every day until I go back." He splays his thighs, a clear invitation for more, more touches, more of that exploration.

Fuck. Suddenly rock hard, Antony groans, hissing in a breath at the suddenness with which all blood flees south. He'd been thinking about that the whole time he was away, on the way home, but here, with Stephen, his shoulder paining him, he'd fallen back into old habits. He licks over the same spot again, once more, then sinks his teeth in, sucking hard, blood pinpricking to the surface.

It's easy, to know that the tension in his lover is that of sexual arousal, and not from the pain of his damaged shoulder, he smiles when teeth meet skin, and moments later it's his turn to hiss. But his _is_ a noise of pain as his lover bites down, determined to leave a visible sign of his ownership on Stephen's skin.

Antony cups Stephen through his jeans, stroking him as he sucks, licks and bites again, teeth pushing his boy's collar out of the way.

Stephen's gifting his Sir pain noises now, his cock is hard beneath Antony's hand, hard and leaking. "Please....please Sir...Tony...please..."

"Give it to me," Antony growls against skin, barely lifting his head, working Stephen through the denim. "Come for me, boy." Biting even harder.

Stephen can't quite cum on command, but when Antony demands that of him it usually starts a process that ends in the desired result pretty soon afterward, this is no different. His hips press up into his Sir's none too gentle hand, he pulls back against the bite at his neck and Stephen wills himself to succumb to the inevitable.

Antony ups the ante, fingers kneading the crown, his own rigid aching cock pressed against Stephen's thigh as he layers the bites. A soft curse of pleasure spilling from his mouth when he feels the hot seed soak the denim beneath his palm.

Breathless, his heart hammering, Stephen slumps back against the couch, he slides his tongue over his lower lip, "Thank you, thank you Sir," he murmurs, wishing he could be nudged further into head space and stay there.

"You're welcome," Antony murmurs, sitting back, watching Stephen. "Now be a good pig and clean your mess up."

Stephen blinks, not sure he heard right, but then it's not the first time his Sir, his lover has appeared to read his mind. The hesitation is entirely down to his delayed thought process, so he's slow to move, as if he's not wanting to obey the order, which couldn't be further from the truth.

Noting the hesitation, Antony smacks the back of Stephen's head. Not hard enough to do any damage or cause any pain but enough to get his attention. "Did you hear me, boy? Fucking clean it up."

Stephen colours up at the rebuke, at the smack, he rarely invokes that kind of reaction from his Sir. Instead of trying to explain himself however, he simply does as told, tugs off his jeans and turns the uppers inside out, he slides to the floor onto his knees and starts to suck his cum off the damp denim.

"Every last drop," Antony says, eyes locked on his boy. "Like a good pig."

Even as he's doing it, sucking the fabric clean, Stephen has to admit to himself that despite wanting this very thing not a few minutes ago, it's just not doing it for him. He's unsure if it's the concern over his lover's condition, or the residual anger at Antony for hiding this from him, but Stephen wants out. Only he doesn't own his word any more. When he thinks he's done a good enough job he offers up the jeans, setting them beside his Sir on the couch, then he leans in, his forehead to Antony's knee.

The reaction's not what Antony expected, his boy far too quiet for someone who would usually be getting off on this. Maybe it's because he's already come, or maybe it's something else, but it certainly doesn't do anything for Antony's mood, his own arousal dampening. "Hey," he says softly, touching Stephen's hair. "You okay?"

That caress, the absolute turn about in Antony's tone tell Stephen his Sir, his lover has, as always read him. He shakes his head once and then lifts his face to Antony's, what he sees there is concern. "I'm sorry, I need out, I just... can we just go to bed? Can I just hold you?" he asks, his voice low. "Please?"

Antony nods, rising and pulling Stephen to his feet. Wrapping his uninjured arm around him and hugging him close, tight, for a long minute.

Mere minutes later, Stephen's carefully helping Antony out of his clothes as his lover perches on the edge of their bed. "I bought steak for dinner," he says quietly. "I thought we should have a quiet night in, catch up n'stuff."

"Mm. That sounds good," Antony says, his stomach choosing that moment to rumble.

The noise makes Stephen chuckle. "I'm not cooking yet," he teases, relaxing again as his less than perfect head space dissipates. "Not until I've had my cuddles and my skin smells like you."

"I know, I can wait," Antony assures him, shifting under the covers, which feel fucking amazing after where he's been sleeping the last week. "I ate on the plane but it was shit as usual."

He watches as his lover relaxes, his whole body slowly loosening, it's something he witnesses every time Antony returns home from a 'trip', sometimes it only happens after sex, once he's drenched Stephen in his semen, sometimes, like now, it starts when he slips into their bed - as if the familiarity of it assures him he is home. Each muscle eases up, and that pinched look of edginess bleeds away to leave behind his lover, his Tony.

Slipping in beside his man, Stephen presses close, his leg nudging to rest over Antony's. "I'm so glad you're home, I missed you."

"I missed you too," Antony says, softly kissing Stephen. "Even more than usual."

"Because you were in pain," Stephen points out, and it's not said as any kind of admonishment, merely an observation. He presses a kiss to the corner of his lover's mouth. "I wish you'd didn't have to go so much." He might want that, and it might be unfair of him to say it, considering he'd told Antony to do what he needed to when they were having crew issues, but it's becoming more and more true for him.

Antony nods. "I know. Me too. But I'm off for a while now," he says. "And maybe if some of the changes we've made work out, I'll be able to delegate a bit more."

"Do you still love it?" Stephen lifts his head. "What you do?" His fingers have found Antony's dog tags and he's rubbing them between his thumb and fingers, a habit now, something intimate and familiar.

Fuck. Antony blows out a breath. It's a question he's asked himself more than a couple of times over the last few months. "I do. I love the planning and the doing. It's the being apart from you that I hate."

"And do you think there will come a time when you don't think it's worth it?" Stephen's gaze is on his fingers now, on the warm metal tag that has his slave number engraved on it.

Antony tenses. He can't help it. Until he met Stephen his work was his entire life. "Probably, but I can't say if that'll be next year or five years from now," he says. "Are you wanting me to retire?"

He feels that tension, of course he does. Stephen's immediate urge is to soothe his lover, but that wouldn't be entirely honest. "If you told me tomorrow you were going to give up the trips, and only work from your offices here, then yeah I'd love that. I'd know you where you are, and I'd know you are safe. But I also know this is part of who you are, you enjoy the kick, the adrenaline, it would be like you asking me to quit 'Arrow'." He leans in and presses his mouth to Antony's chest in a kiss. "It will always be your choice Tony, I'll never ask that of you."

Antony's not sure he'd be as completely safe here as Stephen thinks but he's right, he would be _safer_ and it would be better for Stephen's peace of mind. "Okay." He exhales softly, relieved. "But if you ever change your mind, if this becomes too hard for you, you let me know. I already told you if push came to shove, I wouldn't hesitate and I meant it."

"But you'd resent me for it," Stephen points out, rubbing his lips against warm chest hair. "I agreed to all this, from the start, I don't get to change my mind now."

"Not even if I say you get to?" Antony asks with a smile.

He lifts his eyes to meet Antony's. "Even then."

"So I guess I'll just have to be my ultra-perceptive self," Antony says with a soft laugh, "and make the decision for you, if I think it's getting to be too much." Because there's a reason so many of his crew argue all the time with their partners, why those partners come and go in almost constant stream. Because what you think you can handle when you sign up sometimes proves to be entirely different when you're living it.

"But then it'll be your choice, and that's how it should be." He settles his cheek against Antony's chest and listens to his heart. A steady thump thump.

"Yeah. You're right," Antony says with a smile, amused, combing his fingers through Stephen's short hair. "I love you."

"Tony?" Stephen's eyes close and he takes a breath, "I want to ask something, but I need you to take some time to think it through okay?" His own heartbeat kicks up, but this is nerves... nerves brought about by what he's about to suggest.

Antony's eyes narrow but he nods. "Okay." Pulling Stephen in a little closer.

With his eyes closed, his cheek to Antony's skin, his lover's fingers still moving in his hair, Stephen takes a breath. "When we go to see your family, back home, will you marry me?" And he holds it.

It's the last thing Antony expected to hear and it takes longer than usual for him to process, to make sure he's heard right. "I don't need to think about it. I'd love to marry you."

The smile is instantaneous, so much so, it's there before his eyes open and he turns his head to look up at the man he adores so fucking much. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," Antony says, smiling back and pulling Stephen in for a kiss.


End file.
